The Learning of Things
by xX-despikable-Xx
Summary: Hogwarts is far from the only place to receive a magical education in the UK, and Harry Potter knows this firsthand, because he doesn't even go to Hogwarts. ABANDONED. I just liked what I came up with before I realized I had no idea where to go with this premise.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

* * *

Harry's eleventh birthday started with a bang.

And then another one, and then another one, and then the door flew off of its hinges to reveal a man far too tall to be allowed. Easily standing twice as tall as any normal man, and thrice as wide, the bushy-bearded stranger squeezed through the door of the shack. The stranger took a sweeping look at Harry and the Dursleys, then went right to propping the door up.

"Sorry 'bout that," he grunted.

"Stop! You're breaking and entering," said Uncle Vernon, plum in the face. He was pointing his shotgun at the man. Petunia crouched behind him, flustered, and Dudley cowered as far into the sofa as he could.

The man didn't seem at all phased. He took two long steps toward Vernon, grabbed the shotgun by the barrel, and turned it at a right angle. "Oh, shut your mouth, you pig prune," said the man.

Vernon's face faded to white, but the hairy stranger had lost interest in him.

He turned towards Harry and Dudley, sitting frozen on the floor and sofa respectively.

"Well, hello there, Harry," smiled the stranger through his beard. "Lookin' a bit narrow, eh? Don't these Muggles feed you nuthin'?"

Harry's jaw twitched as he tried to find words. "I- I get plenty to eat, thanks, sir. Who are you?" Harry didn't really want to anger this man. One wrong word and he'd bend Harry and the rest of the Dursleys like he'd bent the shotgun.

"Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper at Hogwarts School o' Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm sure you know all about Hogwarts, o' course," said Hagrid with a chortle. "Speakin' o' which..."

Hagrid dug through his surplus of pockets, pouches, and bags, eventually fishing out the yellowed envelope with the wax seal Harry had gotten to know all-too-well over the past few weeks.

"You're joking," Harry said before he could stop himself.

The twinkle in Hagrid's eye shifted to confusion. "Uh... nope, this here's the real thing, Harry. Yer goin' to Hogwarts."

"He most certainly is _not,"_ Vernon declared, having rediscovered his courage.

Hagrid whirled around on him. "And just who in-" He never finished.

All at once, Petunia, Vernon, Dudley, and Harry all started shouting their discontent, drowning out any threat forming on Hagrid's tongue.

"- far too expensive -"

"- all alone, leaving his friends for fangirls -"

"- and then who am I supposed to play rugby -"

"- not to mention the cesspool of hate -"

"QUIET!" roared Hagrid. Harry could tell the poor man's head was spinning. This meeting was not going down exactly as he had planned.

"Let me get this straight," Hagrid went on, trying to keep his voice calm. He turned to Harry. "You... you _don't_ want to go to Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded. "No. Not at all. Not in a million years, no thank you, sir," he said.

Hagrid's brow furrowed, a look of befuddlement turning to rage as he turned on Vernon and Petunia. "So, you mean to tell me that you've _forbidden_ Harry Potter from magic?" He was incredulous. Enraged. How could such awful people exist?

It was Petunia who spoke up. " _Forbidden_ from _magic?"_ She laughed, and not kindly. "We might as well ban walking, breathing, and eating while we're at it. Why in the Nine Hells would we ever do such a stupid thing? He's a _wizard –_ we aren't going to have an undisciplined, hormonal preteen wizard walking around our house, turning furniture into fruit and fruit into frogs on a whim. Do you have any idea how many problems Lily caused because no one thought to start her education sooner?"

Hagrid was floored. He had no clue what was going on. "Wha- what d'ya mean, _start it sooner?"_

"I already go to magic school, sir," Harry said.

"I drive him to the damned place every morning on my way to work," Vernon confirmed.

"He gets home before I do," added Dudley. In a lower voice, he added, "Lucky bastard."

"Language," snapped Petunia from across the shack.

Hagrid whirled around again to face Harry. "You already go to magic school?" he said. " _Where?"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Even pureblood families, whose children had been grandfathered into the school system without need to pay tuition, often complained about the price of supplies at Hogwarts. Every new Defense teacher brought with them a new curriculum and new required reading, charms textbooks were constantly been updated with new spells, as was potions, and the cost of robes... Once you added in ingredients, cauldrons, and everything else, it was a miracle anyone could afford to send their children to Hogwarts. It was no wonder why pureblood families had so few children.

By contrast, the Guildford School for Young Witches and Wizards was free to attend for all magical families, from when they first show signs of magic to graduation. Books, potions materials, transfiguration subjects, and even the black-and-violet overcloak that acted as the school uniform were all provided to students at no charge to their families. Even wands were provided – donated by the families of deceased witches and wizards, and by Ollivander himself ("I believe one of your students might have use for one of these..." And he was always right).

Guildford was far from the only one of these schools – in fact, there were dozens all around the UK, so that even muggleborns could easily get to magical training – but it was widely considered one of the nicer ones. Hogwarts's own Professor Sinistra happened to be a Guildford alumni.

Dumbledore had spent countless hours campaigning for more funding for these schools in his time at the Ministry, and still encouraged and applauded the plight of those teachers and administrators who operated them. Thus, it came as no surprise that the Head Teacher of Guildford responded almost immediately to his request for a meeting.

"Please, take a seat, Professor," said Professor Idyllia, gesturing to the leather-upholstered chair across from her desk.

"Thank you, Gertrude," Dumbledore said with a smile.

Gertrude Idyllia's office was well-lit by the morning sunlight spilling in through the windows. The walls, where not covered with portraits of previous staff, were crowded with shelves of books, trinkets, and exotic and colorful flowers all spilling off of them. Desks dotted the room, every flat surface taken up with stacks of papers, folders, and on top of it all, strange magical artifacts.

For all of the chaos of the rest of her office, her desk was organized immaculately. Relevant documents were stacked neatly to her side, with a fountain pen and ink nearby. A lamp with a floral shade sat opposite the documents, and beneath that, a framed photo of Idyllia's three daughters and sixteen grandchildren. There was also a dish of chocolates wrapped in pink and gold foil. Idyllia offered Dumbledore one, and he of course accepted.

"I must say, I did not anticipate a visit from you, Albus," Idyllia said. "You wouldn't happen to be searching for a new Defense teacher, would you? Martin is absolutely petrified of the position. He won't teach it at your school for anything less than a harem of Veela and a salary at least thrice what you have the funding for."

Dumbledore laughed. "As much as I would love to have him, I'm afraid I've already got a new Defense teacher for this academic year. Quirinus Quirrell. I'm sure you've heard of him?" he said.

Idyllia nodded. She was an older woman, having been in her first year of Hogwarts when Dumbledore was in his seventh. Her stark-white hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she wore a lavender suit with black accents, reminiscent of the Guildford school colors. Gertrude Idyllia was entirely tidy and pinned in place, except for her dangling silver-star earrings, which bobbed around her head whenever she moved. Whimsical. Dumbledore always liked her.

"Yes, Quirrell. Quite a man, eh? I'm sure he'll bring an interesting perspective to your students," hummed Idyllia.

"I'm sure he will."

Idyllia cocked an eyebrow at Dumbledore. He took the hint.

"I actually wanted to see you about one of your students," Dumbledore started. "Harry Potter. I believe he's attended your school for the past four years?"

Idyllia's face turned sour and gray. She heaved a sigh, grabbed one of the chocolates, and popped it in her mouth. "Harry Potter," she said around the candy. She chewed and swallowed it before continuing. "Yes, we do have Harry Potter in attendance here at Guildford. I take it you'd rather he go to Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore smiled, and nodded. "Yes, to put it simply. Harry Potter is a very unique case, and I believe he will ultimately be safer and better prepared for his doubtlessly interesting adult life should he be educated at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. He would have loved to peer into Idyllia's mind to get a better grasp on how to present this to her, but like most prolific witches and wizards Dumbledore's age, she could tell when people were prodding.

As it was, she didn't look thrilled about the concept.

"And what is it, exactly, about Hogwarts which would make it a school better equipped to prepare Harry Potter for his 'interesting life'?" asked Idyllia.

This wasn't going as planned.

"Hogwarts is easily the safest learning environment in the United Kingdom. Our staff is top-notch, our resources impeccable, and it is my belief that Mr. Potter would make lifelong friends while in attendance," Dumbledore said carefully.

"Uh- _huh."_ Idyllia sat up in her chair, planting her elbows on her desk as she leaned towards Dumbledore. "If you will allow me to be as frank as yourself, sir, I doubt the objectivity of your proposition."

Dumbledore's eyebrows fluttered up to his hairline. "Gertrude?" he prompted.

"Hogwarts may be a veritable fortress, but the spells guarding it are essentially the same as those protecting Guildford – or any other magical community. As for your _staff,_ while you employ many experts, you also employ many – for lack of a better word – crazy people," Idyllia said. "Professor Binns doesn't teach a shred of history past the time of his death, Professor Trelawney has never had a single vision officially confirmed by the Ministry, Professor Sprout was fired from St. Mungo's for grave misconduct... Oh, and let's not forget the suspected terrorist in your employ."

Dumbledore didn't bristle, but his smile became pinched. "Professor Snape was an excellent ally in the war against Voldemort, a master potion-maker, and an upstanding resource for Defense Against the Dark Arts to all students," he said firmly.

Idyllia glared at him. "I was actually talking about Malcolm Whitewater. You Defense professor three years ago? They found a chest full of infants' bones under his bed after he got fired for soliciting minors?"

Oh, yeah. Him.

"In fact, you Defense department is in the most dire state I've ever seen. There is absolutely no way Harry Potter could hope to receive an adequate education in Defense with teachers being replaced every year. Seeing as how your concern is his ability to fare well in his _interesting_ adult life..."

Dumbledore held up a hand, and Idyllia fell silent. "You are a keen woman, Gertrude. It is true – I do have a more personal interest in Harry Potter as a pupil. I worked quite closely with his parents in life, and it was my hope all along that I might tutor him as well. Out of respect for his parents," Dumbledore explained. It wasn't quite the truth, but it was certainly a good part of it.

Idyllia shook her head, leaning back in her seat again. "There's nothing I can do for you, sir," she said. "Harry's legal guardians have the final say in whether he attends Guildford, Hogwarts, or no magical school at all. And I've spoken with dear Petunia – she's quite adamant about Harry receiving a more thoughtful education than her sister received at Hogwarts."

"You're saying I should be speaking to Petunia," Dumbledore said.

"I'm _saying_ that you shouldn't be speaking to anyone. It's none of your business," said Idyllia, eyes flashing. "Are we done here? This meeting has been quite a bit more trouble than I'd hoped."

Dumbledore stood, smoothing his robes as he rose. "Then I shall leave you to your business. I'm so sorry about this, Gertrude. I did not mean to offend you," smiled Dumbledore.

"No offense taken," said Idyllia, deadpan.

On his way out the door, Idyllia called out, "Oh, and good luck with this Quirrell fellow. Here's hoping he isn't a terrorist."

He couldn't help it – Dumbledore laughed. Idyllia always knew how to end a meeting on a good, lighthearted note.


End file.
